


The Sun and Sky

by eme



Series: Wildflowers [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Orcs, Other, Vampires, Werewolves, medieval times, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 12:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eme/pseuds/eme
Summary: Young Akeldama gets acquainted with the married life.





	The Sun and Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gladys💗](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gladys%F0%9F%92%97).



> Universe and main characters created by my girlfriend. All else is of my creation.

Akeldama knew what it was like to stand under the sun. The golden light reflected warmth across her features. Her arms, hidden away by cloth and lace, felt it more subdued, but relaxed in its presence. In the field of lush green, with blooming wildflowers at her feet and drifting dragonflies, the distant forest in her peripheral laid an absent reminder to return home. Grey stepping stones the size of fists led her path.

 Stela and Viorica, her new maidservants, had accompanied her to the opening. Stela drew short breaths, as her similarly short legs patterned to keep up, but quickly recollected herself, eager to see what this excursion resulted in. She was a bright-faced beauty with hazel eyes and light hair in a tousled bun. Her face was speckled in freckles and red splotches from exertion. Her eyes darted to Viorica, who was a bit older, with a thick ponytail. Viorica’s gaze returned with reluctant curiosity. She held herself with pristine posture, a straight back with arms resting behind her. Having more discipline and bravery than her companion, she addressed her mistress loudly,

 “Lady Akeldama, surely a _visit_ of this nature could wait until you have settled into your new household?”

Akeldama turned her head in acknowledgment, and her body followed suite.

“Haven’t you ever gone out this far before?” asked she.

Her hair, far released from the intricately jeweled clasp of sapphire, bellowed around lapping waves of the wind. The locks of black stood out against fair skin and large brown eyes. Strands intercepted her intense stare, directed at Viorica, who swallowed and crossed her arms.

“No, milady,” Viorica said in force niceties, “one has no reason to be away from the protection of the town.”

“And the Watch!” added Stela in a chipper tone.

She blinked and after a moment, continued, “Forgive me, I’ve always wanted to patrol with them and see the sights.”

She smiled sheepishly at Viorica’s disapproving look.

“ _But_ hearing their stories is _all_ I need.” Stela concluded with reassuring finality.

Akeldama’s mouth turned upwards slighty. Her arms were held carefully at her sides and she felt her fingers fiddle with the ribbon at her wrist. Being laced up to her elbows on both arms, up her back, and down her front, gave form-fitting elegance to the after-wedding gown. She grew used to the restricting garments of the upper class nobility, but found herself more inclined to restrict her young spirit with it. Seeing Stela eager and blurting out wonder helped her feel more at ease.

“I don’t plan to stay out for too long or, stars forbid, _run away_.” Akeldama lightly teased. She shifted her gaze to the grass around her feet.

Looking up, she said, “I’m visiting my mother’s resting place. Please have faith in my loyalties, Viorica, Stela.”

Stela’s face had a look of slight confusion, as she expected a more daring motive to be out and about from her similarly young mistress. Viorica huffed, though her eyes softened. “As long as you understand we are to return.”

“Without a doubt.” Akeldama responded.

They went on.

The crunching of grass underfoot was immeasurably loud. The guiding stone path from before had ended a little ways before. In the shade of her mother’s grove, flora withered, but surviving greenery managed to stay in patches, seemingly protected by an erected stone cross. A plaque at its base read:

 

**Aurelia Cel Tradat**

_Toate Cele Frumoase, Poartă și Ponoase_

**All That is Fair Must Fade**

 

 Akeldama’s eyes traced over the words: once, twice. Her chest swelled with air until she remembered to breathe. Out, in. Her limbs tingled with a sensation she didn’t understand. She couldn’t, really. Aurelia had been gone for too long. Any feelings that came from her memory were the byproduct of a child that understood the world even less. All else was a fourteen-year-old girl standing in front of her mother’s expensive tomb, provided by her loving new husband, in a gorgeous, laced-up gown she felt foreign in.

 It was easy to detach herself. She had hoped it was harder. She remembered hearing her mother say that children adapted better than adults did, because learning came naturally to an open mind. She remembered trying to replicate her mother’s embroidered dandelions and failing. She heard Aurelia’s gentle voice, _some things don’t come easy._ Grieving was messy, unforgiving, and the hardest thing to learn. Alone, nothing came easy.

A hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. She paused, then relaxed in the slightest degree. She felt herself lean into the steady grip. A firm, yet soft voice carried into her ear.

 “You are allowed to cry, to care.” Viorica said.

Akeldama abruptly turned around. She saw Stela stagger back a few paces behind Viorica, and nod. Viorica had stayed, unfazed, her hand still on Akeldama, with a gentler grip. Akeldama opened her mouth.

 “I am not the one you came to speak to.” interjected Viorica. Stela’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two, but respectfully remained silent.

 Akeldama looked anywhere but the two in front of her. The awareness of what was behind her, what she had just faced but intended to avoid, tempted her peripherals. The outline of the tall cross from the corner of her eye appeared to be the figure she lost, years ago.

 “I have done what I came for. I have nothing to say.” Akeldama stated. _In front of you_ , she wanted to add.

She turned to the direction of the stone path and started walking, lifting the bottom of her dress to do so. She internally cursed herself for letting herself warm to people, adults, who didn’t understand. There was a brief moment, unsettling silence, until her maidservants followed.

 

* * *

 

She hoped that a man of higher class and fine taste would be charismatic, at least. Her husband compensated, the period when he found her prepubescent figure tempting, through gifts and wild gestures that certainly costed fortunes. She didn’t feel much for such gestures, flowers, and jewelry, and never really had much to say in return. Not that she had the chance. She let the man guide her through the motions of silent, stiff courting and then, elaborate marriage. It felt that any effort went straight to grand pleasantries to make her parents’ decision easier. Then, just her father’s.

Her mother died after a bout with quiet illness. When Akeldama could still lay her head on her lap, and hear her velvety voice go on, the world felt close and _real_. As if she could just reach up and hold her whole universe around the shoulders and never let go. She would admire the gorgeous, flaming brown hair, pulled back to reveal muted green eyes, looking back down at her. The calming sight would flicker with a sepia hue, provided by a candle reaching through the air in auraic darkness. Aurelia would lean down, just slightly, brush away stray hairs from her daughter’s face, and let her know just what to expect of her future love.

“But… I don’t know, Mommy.” whispered Akeldama, voice carrying into the wavering darkness.

“You don’t _yet_ , my sweet. Love is something you learn.”

“Bu—you are… my love more. I love you forever. I know that.”

“Love like this, like family, is a start. It’s here to give you the courage to go out into the world and find other love. More love. You know family because you’ve known nothing else.” Aurelia gently brought a finger to her daughter’s nose and tapped it. “Your future love and life, Mr. Atanase Văduva–“

Akeldama, with furrowed brows, scrunched up her nose. Her mother let out a melodic giggle.

“–will provide for you with his power and his work. You will want for nothing when you enter his noble household. You may not like him now, but you are just past a babe. He is older and knows much more the potential you share. He is _enamoured_ , my love.”

She paused, looking for more to say.

“Here is a secret, little Akelda,”

Aurelia’s hand traveled in an arc, with two fingers landing below Akeldama’s chin. Lifting slightly, she let their eyes lock.

“Most marriages start off rough, on edge. You don’t know much about each other and sometimes, you don’t want to. That’s the way it sometimes is when only parents decide. But you have it much easier, sweet. Văduva has chosen you, has given you much, and learned about you plenty. You will grow to love him. You will make him happy.”

Akeldama didn’t respond, then. Atanase had only discussed his affections with her parents, as was customary, for getting their daughter. It was as her mother described, but fiercely directed away from young Akeldama. She knew next to nothing about that man, except his financial status. She was given no opportunity to ask. He and her parents always spoke privately, away from her. Many moments were provided where they were together in the same field or building, but all he did was stare at her. And all she could do was stare back.

There was nothing less appealing than an intense, unmoving gaze of a boring man to a girl of seven years. It didn’t matter what he gave to her parents to give to her, or what he said to them. Youth was jubilant, wild, and full of energy. Alone with her, he was stone-faced and unyielding. It felt as if Akeldama was a bright candle, just starting her spark, and he was the one to snuff out her flame. And as much as she strangely wished that feeling, by itself, were true, watching the dirt piling over and filling her mother’s grave, pushed down the rest her hopes.

Below the thick grey clouds, Akeldama’s eyes, through unshed tears, drifted to the back of her future arranged husband. He was ensuring the large marble statue of a cross was being prepared for the grave properly, conveniently in full view of her father.

 

* * *

 

There was much to say about the Văduva estate.  The exterior was of stacked grey-beige bricks, interrupted by large paned windows trimmed in white. It was wider than it was tall, though tall it was. It went up four floors, excluding an attic, to a gently sloped roof. Behind the manor was a large clearing space before a lighted stone path that lead to the gardens. Maze-like, were the perfectly trimmed hedges. Flora of all sorts colored the environment and filled one’s senses with a sweet, crisp scent and lovely view. Found in said garden, was the lady of the house, Akeldama Văduva, and her maidservant, Stela Agarici.

Akeldama lay with her back on a simplistic stone bench. Her ankle crossed over the other, as her feet dangled over one end, and she relaxed with both hands under her neck. View of the drifting clouds above weren’t necessarily breath-taking, but familiar. She watched lazily as they moved. The hedges obstructed any intruding sunlight on her face, but her body, through layers of a dress, soaked in the radiating warmth.

After a moment of appreciating the simple day, Akeldama propped her torso up with her arms, and turned onto her stomach. Supported by her elbows on the bench beneath her, her hands held her chin. She tilted her head to the left, where Stela was standing, leaning her back against one of the hedges.

The sun diffused off her warm blonde hair and freckled skin, which gave Stela’s features a light red tone where sun met shadow. Hazel eyes glazed over scenery, before meeting dark brown.

“Come on. What are you so shy for?” Akeldama prompted.

Stela took a hesitant step forward, standing in full sunlight now. She brought a hand up to brush hair behind her ear. Her hand lingered and she visibly breathed in a few times.

“Well,” the normally carefree girl started, darting her eyes away, “Anca was telling me about something strange.”

Akeldama, unfazed, waved her hand in a circular motion as to say, _go on._

“You’ve only been our lady for a year now? Maybe. She was saying you—you, uh,” Stela looked up and swallowed down her nerves, “are very promiscuous!”

The last note rang throughout the paths of the gardens. Akeldama hadn't expected that. She waited for a time before pushing herself up into a sitting position, eyes never leaving Stela’s location. Her face flashed a tense expression for a brief second, but then settled on amusement. She crossed her legs and straightened her back.

“Am I.” She said with exaggerated inflection. “Well,” She gripped the edge of the bench. “What would that have to do with you?”

“Seeing as I’m the only one to attend you while the lord is away,” Stela breathlessly elaborated, “I’d have to keep your... sexcapades appointments a secret.” She shifted her weight on each leg. “Or even…”

Stela didn’t finish, on the account of nails scratching against stone. Akeldama’s fingers were turning red with the pressure of dragging against the bench’s rough surface. She lifted her hand abruptly and dropped it into her lap. Her shoulders were tensed up, but otherwise hid the fact that she almost snapped all her nails off one hand. Stela was frozen, her mouth agape. She blinked a few times, unsure what to do.

“Don’t worry about it.” Akeldama dismissed. Her pupils were pinpricks in a sea of brown.

Stela reached forward and saw Akeldama recoil in response. Her lips pursed as she realized the degree of her error.

“My lady, I’ve spoken and acted out of turn.” She lightly shook her head as if she didn’t believe her own behavior, “It wasn’t right of me to listen to gossip.” Stela reached with her hands out in an reassuring manner. Sunlight scattered as she moved, her footsteps deafening in the tension.

“You can quit it. I’m not an _animal._ ” Akeldama spat, narrowing her eyes. She had her tender hand grabbed by the other, more symbolically than a show of pain. The idea of letting Stela touch her was drowned in disgust.

“N—no! Of course not! I was just… I am really stupid sometimes.” Stela brought her hands up and nervously tapped her fingers together.

“You should go.”

“Maybe, but let me at least—” Stela bravely closed the distance between them. She looked down, a few breaths away from Akeldama’s face, and let her eyes wander her features, for any signs of mercy. Akeldama’s back straightened as she craned, fluidly, like a snake.

“I’m sorry. Is my _promiscuity,_  perhaps, muffling my voice?” Akeldama asked, icily. Her teeth grit in an attempt to control her temper. “Stela Agarici, get the _hell_ out of my sight.”

“Please. Please don’t tell Lord Văduva about this.” Stela whimpered, still unmoving. She only staggered back when Akeldama rose, bringing her gaze upward. The afternoon sun hazily coated raven locks, bringing out shades of deep plum and gold.

“If Atanase is the one who scares you, maybe you need to patrol like the _Watch,_ ” Akeldama mockingly intoned, with a flick of her wrist, “and come back with _findings_ on his master!”

“Uh… Okay…” Stela weakly forced out, her legs buckling beneath her. She caught herself with her wrists just a smidge too late. She tumbled backwards completely, and likely scraped her palms on the cobblestone. There was no time to double check as she speedily disappeared into one of the hedged paths. It wasn’t the right one to the manor, but it’d be far enough away that Akeldama didn’t care to call out.

Akeldama lowered herself back onto the bench. The leaves rustled around her and the scent of summer flowers garnered her focus. Her reddened hand hinted at a twitch. Despite hardly lashing out, she had to stifle her pulse and racing thoughts. _It’s fine._ Deep breath. _It’s fine. She’s eager and young. Like me. Just like me._

 _Just like me._ And yet, nothing like her. Stela was allowed to be boisterous, oblivious, and endearing. She could make scandalous claims about the lady of the house, with only cut hands and a failed attempt at ménage à trois to show for it. Akeldama had to hold herself higher and daintier. More elegant in her posture, and elusive in her choices. Her actions had a weight to them that she was forever conscious of.

Through dark eyelashes, the sunlight graced her eyes, spanning over the sky. And time went on. Dimly, she recognized the throbbing that came with bleeding. She had sat back down on the bench. In another moment, she had lay down. Her breaths smoothed over in an odd wave of calm and in the midst of her rising chest, a leaf fluttered down.

Her sights had closed. The sweet scents that surrounded her had long drifted to the sidelines. She didn’t feel. She met black until it consumed all of her.

It became everything, just as much as nothing did.

...

 ..

 .

Akeldama grew faintly aware that she was rocking. Limply, her body swayed back and forth, cradled against a wall of warmth. Not one to be taken unawares, she brought up her dangling arm to angle a punch, only to feel stiffened in a permanent curve. Her thumb had free range and as she ran it over her over fingers, she could feel the thick, rough surface of gauze.

Her assailant gave no reaction to her movement, and continued on with patterned steps that rebounded over marble. Akeldama could tell his sturdiness by his lack of staggering and decided then, that he was good. There was no need to struggle against this fine specimen with lucious starry blue locks that trailed independently behind his person, swaying with every step. There was no need to do anything but rub her cheek against the smooth fabric of his loose tunic and feel the outline of his soft, supple pec. Her mind’s eye gazed upon a firm behind and warped to grab it. She let out a small giggle.

She’d be thankful if he whisked her away or burned down the manor with his fists of hellfire. Both would be even better. She could imagine him wielding a rapier of some sort and slashing it around with precision. On him, she smelled warm vanilla with a tinge of some fruit. Maybe apples.

Cloth brushed against wall with a sweep, as her carrier eased himself to the side. Akeldama’s head bobbed gently with the motion. The darkness from behind her eyelids dipped into deeper depths as they eased into a room. The familiar, cold air, signature to the master bedroom, encompassed her being. She squirmed closer to her warm fantasy.

Bashfully, she lifted her head up and whispered, “I have a husband.”

Truthfully, she didn’t care. Not _really,_ though twinges of fear edged her voice and nipped at her heart, enough to be audible.

“I know.” Viorica reassured. She stopped after a moment and leaned down, bringing Akeldama, still in her arms, with her. Her dress shuffled in the motion and her breath warmed Akeldama’s neck with soft puffs.

Akeldama found herself more content as she was placed onto the bed. Her arms were guided down after her torso, and then her legs. She enjoyed the residual feelings that swelled where Viorica’s fingers trailed down her shoulders before disappearing. She felt a thick blanket fall over her, initially cold but warmed in seconds by her skin. Hairs tickled her face as Viorica adjusted the blanket to cover her sides. Just as she got used to the sensation, it left.

She heard a breath and shuffling as Viorica presumably stepped back.

“Goodnight, milady.” A rustle.

Viorica’s footsteps receded from the room, along with the click of a closed door.

Surprisingly, the warmth stayed.

 

* * *

 

“You don’t gossip.”

“Of course not.” Viorica stated, brushing through kinks in Akeldama’s hair. Generous, repetitive sweeps continued, as was their morning routine. When Akeldama first became lady of the house, she had cycled through most of the staff to be her personal handservant. Remarkably, her preference leaned towards the older, towering Viorica, who was just slightly gentler than she appeared. Even more so, Viorica never had the time to take the position fully, but made sure to spend mornings with her lady.

Viorica stopped when she saw Akeldama’s right hand shift to apply pressure to get up. Her other fist, that had lain delicately in her lap, dropped to her side as she stood.  Her long, black hair cascaded, following behind her, the noticeable brushed and unbrushed sections clashing with the morning light.

“Ever the dramatic I see.” Viorica deadpanned. She still had some tangled locks in her hand and released them, as she reached over to place an engraved wooden brush on the matching vanity. Akeldama walked towards her, leading with her torso. Her white silk nightgown clung to her skin, and the pearly sheer texture exposed some hints of her pale complexion throughout. She fiddled with the decorative ties at her wrists that kept her sleeves from overflowing.

“I would like to face you as we talk.” Akeldama said, eyes tensed and her lip curled.

She opened her mouth and paused. Darting her eyes across the warm marble flooring, she settled on a truth,

“It’s my birthday.”

She released a breath, as if confessing to grave mistake. Her eyes squinted again, obviously a deliberate move, yet unlike anything Viorica had ever seen from her lady. Viorica’s eyebrow quirked, drawing attention to her deep blue eyes.

“Yes, I am aware.” She replied, confusion painted clearly in her voice. Her lips pursed as her eyes scrutinized Akeldama’s out-of-sorts behavior.

Akeldama shook her head, gesturing futilely with her hand, “My–today. Today, I’d like you to accompany me into town.”

Viorica‘s features relaxed, before straightening into proper servitude, “I am afraid I must tend to other matters today, milady. However, I will be here when you return to–“

“Ah-ah! This is an order, Viorica.” Akeldama interjected, arm outstretched and finger pointed, “you _will_ come on this trip with me or there will be _consequences_!”

Viorica could only stare incredulously before drawing back her head; a twitch on the corner of her lips.

“What of Lord Atanase?” She argued, bringing up calloused fingers to brush Akeldama’s shoulder, “you wish for me to intrude on a private outing between you two?” Her hand shuttered and fell back to the side. 

“If _you_ were to tell him that I’m in good hands, he’ll let us go alone.” Akeldama said, tilting her chin up, “He likes you, maybe even as much as I do. He’ll listen to you. I know it.”

Viorica scoffed, placing a stray curl behind her ear.

“If he liked me as much as you did, he would–“ She abruptly stopped.

“Hm?” Akeldama’s eyes narrowed, in clear suspicion.

 “He–“ Viorica cleared her throat, subtly shifting her shoulders, “would make me head maid.”

Bright morning light intruded through windows and drawn curtains of scarlet. Scattered particles danced on the rays of sun and bounced around the dark, burnished wood furniture. The halo effect provided by the strong white light and diffused sparkle-like dust gave the two a scene to indulge in as their locked eyes went on.

“You could afford to clean in here more.”

“If you slept in the master bedroom, the state of this room would be of no concern.” Viorica countered.

Akeldama let out a laugh, “I suppose you’re right.”  


End file.
